Here's To You
by Oracle56
Summary: In his prison cell, Slade waits. There is nothing else to do. A story of madness. Lost Brothers. And the possibility of redemption. Eventual spoilers up to 3x09. Rated T just to be safe.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Arrow characters. Or DC comics. Or any other characters that show up in here. . Other than that, enjoy! Review please!**

Slade moves through a series of movements in his cell, brutally attacking invisible enemies. Sometimes he imagines Yao Fei. Sometimes Sara. Fyers. Ivo. In his darker moments, even Shado. But always Oliver. Leaving him back on this godforsaken island.

He was well cared for. His living conditions were good. He had almost expected for Oliver to have him tortured. Kept more dead than alive. But he hadn't. He was going to play the hero game was he?

Slade whipped his foot out, crashing it against the unforgiving bars of his cell.

They didn't budge.

Suddenly exhausted, Slade collapsed down on the cot. What would Shado say to him now? He had failed to keep his promise. Was there any hope of getting off this island without the Mirakuru?

Slade screamed, his voice echoing painfully off the walls. This was his punishment for failing her... Both times.

* * *

Oliver visited twice a month. He would check to make sure that Slade hadn't been coming up with an escape plan. Beef up security if he felt it needed to be done.

The first time he visited, Slade ended up screaming after Oliver, telling him how he would keep his promise. He would rip everything away from him, and drive an arrow through his eye.

Oliver always remained calm in the face of his anger. He would nod quietly, before leaving again. It infuriated Slade to no end.

Blood had betrayed him. Not that Slade could talk, but if Oliver and the League hadn't found a cure for the Mirakuru, it would have been a very different ending. He imagines Felicity dead at his feet, her life blood trailing away as she stares blankly into the abyss. He imagines Oliver screaming, screaming as he had screamed so many years ago over Shado. His lips curl into a smile as he imagines finally shoving the arrow through Oliver's eye. Brothers had to go through everything together, didn't they?

He allows himself to wonder what would have happened if there had been a cure 5 years ago. Could it have been different?

No. Shado had still died. And it was Oliver's fault.

* * *

Another day. The same walls. The same food. The same anger. Slade lay on the floor, before starting to do push-ups, his breath coming soft and even. Finally managing to work up a sweat. In that moment he was thankful the Mirakuru was gone. He might not have been able to do so otherwise. The first week, while his body recovered from the lack of the Mirakuru was the worst.

He shook his head. Stupid thought. The Mirakuru had saved him. He had needed it. Relied on it. He would give anything to have it back.

Anything.

* * *

Argus employees would give him two meals a day. They never said anything, under strict orders from Waller. By Slade's reckoning, he had been imprisoned for two months.

The third month, Oliver climbed down the hatch as usual taking the Argus employees job of giving him food for the day. Slade glared at Oliver. "Why do you always come here? I hate you!" How dare this man, someone he had once considered a brother, dare show his face.

"I hate you too Slade. You killed my mother. You made my life hell. You almost killed Roy. I just... Hope to see a little regret."

Slade smirked at him, "I'm not going to change kid. I don't regret anything. Just wait till I get out of here-"

Oliver sighed, before leaving again, "We were brothers once. Now look at you."

When Oliver climbed out of the Argus prison, and headed back to the airplane, he started to think to himself. He didn't know why he kept on visiting Slade. There was nothing left of the man he once knew. He knew that. That man had died as he came back to life, fueled by the Mirakuru. Oliver wished things could have turned out differently. He shook his head. But they hadn't. He looked back at the prison. He would not be visiting Slade intentionally again. He had left the island behind.

* * *

Shado came to him that night. She climbed onto the bed, straddling him, pressing a kiss to his lips, her soft lips moving slowly against his. Her hands stroked his face, running through his beard. He tried to grab her, to hold her close, to never let her go. He wouldn't fail her. Not again.

Before he could, she slipped out of his grasp. "You failed me Slade. You didn't avenge my death!" Her eyes flickered with hate. "HOW COULD YOU? I THOUGHT YOU LOVED ME!?"

Slade winced, stepping towards her imploringly. "I just need more time! I will still avenge you. I promise!"

She flipped up her hood, hiding her eyes, and fired an arrow straight at Slade's heart. He fell back onto the bed, wheezing in pain. She turned away from him, and when she spoke, her voice seemed to merge with Oliver's. "We all know what your promises are worth."

Slade woke with a start. He thought he saw Shado walking away from him, but as the sleep cleared from his eyes, he saw that no one was there. Slade cried that night. Silently, unmoving, his face turned away from any potential cameras.

But soon the sadness turned to anger. With a howl of rage he picked the mattress up, hurling it across his cell. It did nothing. He couldn't do ANYTHING!

* * *

Days past. Weeks past. Months past. He was no closer to finding an escape from the island. No closer to have Shado stop tormenting him in his dreams. No matter how much he trained himself, no matter how much he honed his skills, he was no closer to escaping. Part of him feared he never would be.

* * *

On the fifth month of his imprisonment he continues to fight invisible enemies. Only now, he mostly fights Shado. She taunts him. Mocks him. Blocking each of his blows with ease.

"You betrayed me!" She screams. "You betrayed us all!" And she vanishes from his mind. Leaving him confused and hurt. His heart beating painfully in his chest.

His voice, no more than a whisper, echoes throughout his prison. "Us?"

* * *

Shado continues to come to him. No matter how much he tries to send her away. To get her to leave. Even though he wants her to stay desperately. He can only wait, watching as she slips into his mind in sleep or awakening, constantly tormenting him. On the sixth month of his imprisonment, things change. He waits calmly for Shado to appear. And right on schedule, she does. Right after he has eaten his last meal for the day. He remains sitting, for once he is calm as he stares into her soulless eyes.

"Hello Slade."

He doesn't respond, merely nodding his head in acknowledgement.

"Are you read to die for your failures?"

His voice rasps through the room. "You never were skilled enough to kill me." He slowly stands up, his back straight. Madness replaced with confidence. He stares into Shado's eyes, watching dispassionately as blood drips from them. The aftereffects of the Mirakuru. "Get out of my head!"

Shado's body distorts, becoming taller and wider. She screams silently until he is face to face with Billy Wintergreen. "Did ya miss me Slade?"


	2. Chapter 2

**(A/N) Disclaimer. I don't own Arrow. Obviously. So read, maybe enjoy? I don't know. Thanks for reading!**

A gaping hole takes the place where Billy's eye used to be. Slade remembers plunging his sword into Billy's eye with great satisfaction. "What are you doing here? I seem to remember killing you."

"I seem to remember Shado dying also, bud."

The old nickname stings. The reminder even more. More so than any punch Wintergreen could have thrown. Red fills Slade's vision and he howls with rage, striking out at his old friend blindly. Brothers. They always betrayed you. Always turned their backs on you when you needed them most. "I already killed you once…I'll take great satisfaction in doing so again."

And so they fight. Around the cell. Slade has the upper hand. He always was the better fighter. But Billy fights like a demon. And he won't go down. No matter how many times Slade punches him in the face. Kicks him in the stomach and groin.

Slade is relentless. Constantly pushing forward, heedless of the ugly bruises forming on his hands as his knuckles start to bleed. But then, suddenly, illogically, impossibly, the tide of battle turns. Slade finds himself losing ground. "You're not real!"

Wintergreen only smiles smugly, his one good eye piercing into Slade's soul. "Real enough." And proceeds to slam Slade against the floor, the bars, until Slade finally falls to the ground, staring weakly up into Billy's face.

"So this is how the great Slade Wilson finally falls. Beaten by his own mind."

"Shut up!" Slade finds a strength inside of him he didn't know still existed, his leg hooking with Billy's sending him tumbling to the ground. He crouches over Wintergreen, the taste of victory sweet on his lips. "I always was better than you Wintergreen."

Billy Wintergreen sneers. "You fool. You're no better than I am. You ARE me!"

Slade watches in horror as Wintergreen's face melts and reforms again, skin stretching and pulling, until finally he's staring into his own eye.

Slade does not remember much of what happened later, the shock becoming too much. He does remember waking up, much later. His mattress thrown around his cell, and every bone and muscle in his body aching.

…

Time passes, as it always does. But instead of Shado, the taunting voice of Wintergreen haunts him. Where Slade once found pain and regret, he now finds anger, and a new emotion. One that he finds both strange and uncommon, yet familiar.

It takes him days to puzzle it out, but when he does, he laughs bitterly. Shame? He has nothing to be ashamed of. It's Oliver's fault!

"And here I thought you knew better than to let yourself give into denial bud. Ah, who am I kidding? You've been in denial this entire time."

The voice of Wintergreen pounds into his head. And he screams. No more! No more…

…

"How the mighty have fallen."

"An eye for an eye bud. Kind of ironic when you think about it."

"Have you even seen you're kid Slade? All those years off the island. I bet you didn't visit him once."

And then the laughing. Oh the laughing. It's all up in his ears. Crawling into his head like spiders. Images of Shado, Sara, Billy, and Ivo, all flashing before his eyes. Once the laughing starts, it never stops. Slade curls up into a ball on his beaten bed. How the mighty have fallen indeed.

…

"Traitor." The word hisses around him. Going deep into his soul and twisting. Dark and senseless. It settles in his stomach. A dark little demon, gnawing at his ribs. Its foul little paws cold and unforgiving, it's tail reaching up to encircle his heart. "Traitor."

One word, so powerful, that it actually leaves Slade in a cold sweat, and for a moment, he sees Oliver's pain-stricken accusing eyes. And he remembers how it felt to plunge the blade into Moria's body.

It had been easy. Not unlike stabbing a knife into butter. There had been a little resistance, even with his Mirakuru enhanced strength, before it slipped through and out her back.

"Traitor."

…

He dreams. Not uncommon. But lately he is remembering happier times. Times on the island.

Oliver. Tied to a chair. Dislocating his thumb to punch Slade in the face. Perhaps the first time the kid ever showed any promise.

Sparring with Shado. Keeping his technique up. He fell in love at some point. Although he didn't remember feeling bitter. Jealous perhaps. Definitely jealous. But he wouldn't have tried to come between her and Oliver.

…Wait...

A handshake. A promise. To get off the island. Sparring. Sharing a drink. Brothers. A bright spot, in all the darkness.

No!

Slade had always liked the see how far he could push the kid. Putting him into the fire, and watching him come out the other side. Or just watching him make a fool out of himself. And Oliver's chagrined look whenever Slade revealed his hand.

He killed Shado! It was his fault!

Dreams becoming nightmares.

Blood streaks from his eyes as he see Shado dead on the ground. Oliver and Sara lying next to her in tears. The rage he felt as he tore into Ivo's men. Ending their cruel lives. But the pain didn't stop.

"Look at you."

Slade opens his eyes. Dreams and nightmares melting away. Melting or coalescing into a new shape. He stares at himself, standing over him. Two eyes.

"Look at what you've done to us."

Slade cannot help but laugh. "So. I've finally become crazy enough that I'm talking to myself?"

His past self smirks, settling into a ready fighting position. "You tell me."

Slade is only too happy to oblige. He moves, faster than he has since he got put in this accursed place. Hands and feet a blur. They clash. Later on, Slade will wonder how such a thing was possible. How could these fights have felt so real?

This was not a fight Slade could win. He felt himself being detached his body, and watched the fight as an observer. Deathstroke fighting a losing battle against Slade. Or was that Billy fighting a losing battle?

"When we first tried to get off this island, it was as strangers. Now, it's as brothers." A last moment of sanity. And it almost seems like Deathstroke could win. But Slade ducked under the punch, and drew his sword, shoving it into Deathstroke's eye.

Suddenly Slade was not observing, and Deathstroke fell onto the bed clutching his eye in agony. Slade stood over him, his face set in hard lines, his eyes burning with hatred. "At least you succeeded in royally pissing me off. You failed at everything else. Being a father. A friend. A brother."

Deathstroke's breathing comes in harsh gasps. He screams. His voice echoing off the walls.

"Scream all you like. No one cares."

Slade vanished. Back into the past. In time, the agony faded. His daily meal came, and he took it without complaint. Time passed, and some semblance of life went on.

"Traitor."

Deathstroke regretted nothing.

"Traitor."

Nothing…


	3. Chapter 3

**(A/N) Wow. I actually finished a fanficiton. How about that. O_O Granted this was extremely short as well. I'd love it if you would review this if you read it. Even if you hated it, tell me what you hated about it and why. Writing on fanfiction for me is mostly about a learning experience. Reviews are like cupcakes. Or muffins. I love muffins. :3**

Realization comes. Not quickly, as one might expect, but slowly. Like watching a sunrise. Seeing the morning star blaze against the shrinking night sky. There is a sense of hope, Slade realizes. Shado is dead, yes. And he thought he had been talking to her spirit all these years. A hint of red fills the sky. He had done unforgivable things. He had been at fault. Anger. Depression. Bargaining. Denial. And yes, finally acceptance.

He could never be forgiven. He knew that. Even if he spent the rest of his life working to fix his sins, he would always be hated. He knew that. But as the sun finally made its presence known, burning into the sky, tinting the sea with its magnificence, Slade felt at peace.

Escaping from his cell had been easy, in the long run. He had merely had to think like a man, and not a mad monster hellbent on revenge. It was a fitting end, he supposed. As soon as he left the island behind, he was still trapped here.

"Well, that's enough of that." Slade muttered to himself. He dropped to the ground and headed towards the fallen airplane. Home. It was good to breathing clean air. Not fouled by any pollution or traffic noise. And he would get off.

That was a promise.

* * *

He was never born to spend his life on an island, and he escapes. He creates a raft. It takes time. He loses his patience many times. But he gets it done.

Then it's a waiting game. A liferaft will never get him off of Lian Yu by itself.

It takes him a month to get off the island after building the raft. But eventually a ship passes by, and he is near enough that he is able to bump against it.

He sneaks onboard, no one the wiser to his boarding.

So it is to his immense confusion when they approach the island, and he hears the captain of the ship speaking to a small diminutive woman.

"Are you sure this is the place?" The captain is a big man, his voice imposing as he leers down at the woman. "The H.I.V.E. Master does not take kindly to mistakes."

"I'm sure. Our agents in Argus assure me that Slade Wilson is on the island." She doesn't back down. Not an inch. And Slade feels a certain respect for her, even as the news that H.I.V.E. was looking for him knocks him off his feet. Ironic. He clenches his fists. It appears that it was never going to be an easy way off the island. He should've known better.

But it's her next words that shock him even more.

"With the Arrow gone, this is our time to make our move on Starling. Our sources report that a Deadshot may have given a tip to one of Waller's men about our organization. I believe the name was Diggle? In either case, we must act quickly, taking down Argus and the Suicide Squad, and crippling the remaining vigilantes associated with them. And who better than Slade Wilson?

Oliver is missing? Gone? Dead?

Impossible.

He would find out for himself.

Slade is silent as they approach the prison, hiding deeper into the bowels of the ship. They will not find him. And he doubts that they are stupid enough to dare looking for him on the island. Riddled with traps, and the sheer gall of coming after him. Even now, he would kill first, ask questions later on that place. Trust no one you don't know.

* * *

They refuel in Japan, and he slips unnoticed off the ship, wearing a hoodie to disguise himself. The irony was not lost on him. Oliver would have a field day if he knew. Well, at one point he might have. At this point he'd probably shoot an arrow in his other eye. Not that Slade could blame him.

He makes his way back to Starling easily. Traveling between countries in disguise had never been a problem. He still had some allies who were either happy to help, or too afraid not to help him.

He stays outside Verdant, waiting until the club shuts down, seeing the woman, Felicity leaving with Roy and Diggle. No Oliver.

Still inside?

Slade was confident in his ability to escape the city even if Oliver saw him. He goes into the basement, poised for a fight.

He doesn't find one.

Oliver's suit is still in his ridiculous glass case. Slade never understood that. How had he been able to change so quickly? "I never taught him that..." Slade muttered.

The door opens and Slade pulls a gun from one of his several hidden holsters and waits, keeping the point down, to appear slightly less threatening.

Diggle walks in, turning on the lights. Perhaps he had left something behind. Either way, Slade admires his reflexes, as soon as he sees Slade standing there he jumps behind a table, finding cover, grabbing several arrows from a nearby display case, while firing shots behind his back as he does so.

"How did you get off Lian Yu?" He barks.

"I'm not here for a fight. At least, not today." Slade says calmly, keeping the gun pointed at the ground, having easily dodged the bullets. "If I wanted to kill you, you would already be dead. I had several opportunities."

"Don't be so sure."

Slade decides to let it go, but drops his gun on the floor, and kicks it towards Diggle. "I'm just hear to talk."

"You can talk your way back to Lian Yu for all I care." Diggle spits back.

"Where is Oliver?"

"He's dead."

"DON'T LIE TO ME!" Slade roars. "Why has the Arrow gone missing?"

Diggle slowly rises from the table, holding two guns directly at Slade. "He's gone. Dead. He went to fight Ra's al Ghul. Ra's killed him."

At the mention of Ra's, Slade feels his blood turn cold. He takes in Diggle's defiant stance, recognizing a fellow soldier in grief.

Diggle continues, talking over Slade's silence. "So if you want to pursue your sick vendetta against us and Oliver's family? You have to go through me first."

"I have no intention of doing that." Slade turns away from Diggle.

"Then what are you here for?"

Slade looks down at the floor for a moment, secure in his belief that the man holding a gun to his head won't betray Oliver's mercy upon him and taint his memory.

"Hands where I can see them Slade." Slade raises his hands so they are visible. Still. Best not to antagonize too much. That was not what he came here to do.

"What do you know of H.I.V.E.?" Slade asks instead, turning around.

"They killed my brother during Afghanistan. Hired a sniper." The words are forced out. Bitter to be talking to the enemy, but at the same time desperate for knowledge.

Slade raises his eyebrow. "I can tell you more about them. They know that you are searching for them. They had intended to hire me to help take you and your friends at Argus down. I declined."

"Why would you do that? Last I heard you would have done anything to keep us down."

"That is none of your concern. I merely came here to find out what had happened to Oliver and to let you know I no longer mean any harm. I will be leaving Starling, and hunting down H.I.V.E. and putting an end to their operations." Resolve fills his voice as the plan finally comes together in Slade's mind. "And I figured some information might convince you to let me leave without a fight. I'd rather not hurt you." He finishes, holding up a file, and laying it on a desk next to one of the several computers occupying the lair.

Diggle lowers his guns. "Fine. Get out. But next time we meet, I will not hesitate to put you down."

As Slade leaves, he doesn't fail to notice Diggle managing to slip a tracker onto him, nor does he miss Diggle mutter about him being a lot more politer than Merlyn.

As soon as he is out of city limits he disables the tracker. By this point he imagines that Diggle has informed the others of his escape and return. But no matter. They do not worry him. H.I.V.E. is the primary concern. If they want to be responsible for making everything Oliver fought for in his life meaningless, they'd have to go through him

That's what a brother was for right? Slade Wilson pulls out a bottle of beer, and raises it to the night sky. "Here's to you, Kid."


End file.
